


A Woman Like Me | Christmas at the Gray's

by Milliadoc_Brandybuck



Series: Peaky Blinders [2]
Category: Peaky Blinders (TV)
Genre: 1920s, Christmas, Christmas Tree, Decorating the christmas tree, F/M, Inspired By Peaky Blinders, Mixed-Race Character, post-partum depression
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:27:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28288422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Milliadoc_Brandybuck/pseuds/Milliadoc_Brandybuck
Summary: Michael and Ivory Gray get ready to host Christmas with the Shelby's.**This chapter is in response to a Christmas fanfiction prompt challenge: Your OTP decorate a Christmas Tree together. In this case my OTP is Ivory Gray and her husband Michael**
Relationships: Michael Gray/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Peaky Blinders [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2072073
Kudos: 5
Collections: Christmas Prompts 2020





	A Woman Like Me | Christmas at the Gray's

**December 1924**

“What are you all dressed up for?” Michael asked as he came in through the front door to see Ivy balancing on a chair in her best heels, reaching to straighten the top of the Christmas tree. 

“It’s a gift from your mother, do you not like it?” Ivy asked from her perch atop the chair.

“You trust my mother’s fashion taste?” Michael raised an eyebrow.

“I happen to think Poll dresses beautifully. She’s been the only fashion role model I’ve ever had.” Ivy scolded him from the chair. She had finished with the tree and held her hand out to him. Michael hung up his coat and removed his hat, and then hurried forward in enough time to help her step down from the chair. 

“Why  _ are  _ you all dressed up?” Michael asked. “We’re not going to Tommy’s until tomorrow.” 

“The family are coming around later for Christmas drinks.” Ivy replied, brushing her black curls back from her tawny face, her dark eyes sparkling. 

“Here?” Michael looked around their small townhouse. It was always immaculate, Ivory always seemed to find time between her midwifery duties and coping with her baby blues to keep up a proud house, but even so. Michael knew his family had bigger houses. Why here?

“Everywhere has to look perfect.” Ivy dusted off her navy dress and patted her hair back into place. She normally didn’t give a toss about how she looked beyond the kohl around her dark eyes. The last time Michael had seen her so dressed up was their wedding day. 

“Why?” Michael asked as he frowned up at the tree. 

“Why?” Ivy replied with a surprised scoff. “It’s your family Mickey, you know what your family are like.” 

“Last time I checked my mum wasn’t bothered whether the top of the tree is straight.” Michael shook his head. 

“Clearly I know Poll better than you do.” Ivy chuckled at her husband. Michael raised an eyebrow at her but didn’t argue. She really did look stunning, all dressed up as she was. 

“You look very lovely.” He commented, his scowl softening. 

“Thank you. I do scrub up nice when I want to.” Ivy did a twirl and grinned widely at Michael.

“I know you do.” Michael leant in to kiss her but she leant back and put her manicured nails to his lips. 

“Don’t you smudge my lipstick, Mr Gray.” Ivy’s eyes sparkled. Michael laughed at her.

“You can always apply more.” Michael said in a low voice, brushing her hand out of the way and kissing her anyway. She giggled and let him, looping her arms around his neck and letting him pick her up with the embrace. He set her down a few moments later and wiped her lipstick from his own lips. She giggled at him and smoothed her own. “What time are they arriving?”

“Finn said about five when he and Isiah dropped off the tree.” Ivy explained. She crossed to the mirror above the mantle to reapply her lipstick. 

“Five?” Michael glanced at his pocket watch. “That doesn’t leave us much time. Why are they coming here and not Tommy’s place?” 

“We’re going to Tommy’s place tomorrow, Mickey.” Ivy reminded Michael. “And you know he won’t let Maggie and Alfie come.” 

“Alfie? Why is he coming? He doesn’t even celebrate Christmas.” Michael sank onto the sofa and put his feet up on the footstool. 

“You’re such a complainer, do you know that?” Ivy rolled her outlined eyes at him and tutted her tongue, but she smiled affectionately. “Tommy won’t have Alfie in his house. I will have him in mine.” 

“Ours.” Michael reminded her. 

“Mine.” Ivy repeated. “This house was a gift from Tommy, remember, to me.” Her eyes shone warningly. “I know what it’s like to be ostracised for the way you are… Jewish, black… in the eyes of most folk those things are hardly different. Under my roof they will be treated with respect. Understood?” Michael swallowed. She looked much like his own mother in that moment, at her scariest. He conceded by looking away from her and to the tree. He sighed. 

“What is Jewish Christmas anyway?” Michael muttered. 

“You can ask Alfie when he and Maggie get here.” Ivy replied. 

Michael watched as Ivy opened the wooden box that had been sat on the coffee table this whole time. Inside was a series of golden baubles of ornate glass. One by one Ivy lifted them from the box and hung them on the branches of the tree. The way the light from the fireplace bounced off her soft face as she concentrated on getting them symmetrical made Michael’s breath catch in his throat. He gave Ivy a hard time sometimes, she gave it back just as much, their relationship was one built on turmoil and uncertainty. But he knew that he really did love her. It was clear that he hadn’t just married her because she had been pregnant with their daughter. He wasn’t always good at showing that he loved her, partly because society had opinions about her due to her skin colour and her background, partly because of how he himself was raised, but he endeavoured from then on that he would be much more of a husband to her. More of a father to their daughter. 

“Where’s Ginny?” Michael asked, looking around. There was no sign of the infant anywhere.

“With your mother until tonight. Her crying was becoming unbearable.” Ivy explained as she strung garlands across the branches. Michael knew she was deliberately deflecting the fact she had badly suffered from baby blues since Virginia had been born months ago. “Will you fetch the candles?” 

Michael got to his feet and crossed to the cabinet. He pulled out the drawer and found the tapered candles. He frowned. 

“You trust my mother with Ginny?” Michael asked. 

“I trust her more than I’d trust some of the others. Arthur isn’t the best at coping with kids.” Ivy giggled. “Poll has experience.” 

Michael thought about her words as he helped her loop the garland around the higher branches, his other hand full of candles. He wasn’t much taller than her but he could reach a little higher. 

“How are you coping now, Ivy?” Michael asked carefully. Ivy blinked at him. She knew what he was asking. 

“It’s Christmas, Michael.” Ivy replied curtly. “I don’t want to discuss my dark thoughts.” 

That was that and they fell into silence for a short while. Michael set about hanging the candles with the gold candle holders whilst Ivy tied bows around the boughs. 

“Are you happy with me, Mickey?” Ivy asked eventually. She was round the back of the tree so that Michael had to crane to see her face. She was avoiding his eye as she concentrated on a particularly large bow. 

“Of course I am.” Michael replied. 

“God’s honest truth?” Ivy briefly met his eye before looking away again. 

“God’s honest truth, Ivy.” Michael nodded. “You’re the only woman for me.” 

“Even though I’m a bad mother.” Ivy paused in her tying and blinked earnestly at him. Her eyes were shining with tears. 

Michael put down the last candle and hurried to stand by her. He took her arms in his hands firmly, holding her to him. She looked up into his eyes and he looked back, trying to make her see. 

“Ivy.” He said. “The demons in your mind did the things you did. Not you. It’s the things Edgar would say to you, what he did, that are making you think these things and do these things. You’ve never hurt Ginny, and you never would. You’re not a bad mother, you just haven’t learned how to be a good one yet. You’ll get there. I promise to be there for you more.” Michael clutched her face in his hands, appealing to her desperately. Ivy blinked back at him and nodded.

“You’re right.” She sniffed and gripped his arms in return. “Of course you are.” She smiled widely. “The tree is done. You light the candles and I’ll go and put some spiced wine on the stove. They’ll be here soon.” Ivy wiped her nose with her handkerchief and forced a smile as she made to step past him. Michael caught her wrist and turned her back to him. 

“I do love you, Ivory.” Michael said in the most defiant and truthful voice he could muster. 

“And I love you.” Ivy replied just as honestly. She blinked at him and then at the tree. “The tree looked beautiful.” 

She forced that lipsticked smile again and walked away to the kitchen. Michael looked up at the tree. It did look beautiful. She had put so much care into every little thing. But then, that was his wife all over. That was the trouble of growing up with the Peaky Blinders. Everything had to go well, or it didn’t go at all. 


End file.
